


Who Cuts the Commander's Hair?

by IncreasingLight



Series: In Their Blood [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Haircuts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 11:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4827674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncreasingLight/pseuds/IncreasingLight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Related to my longer work - now that I'm finishing it up I have several of these that I just couldn't work into the story.  I love this piece of fluff, so I'm posting it as a one shot/related work.</p><p>Pure fluff and silliness.  It's cute, dammit.  Don't judge me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Cuts the Commander's Hair?

Cullen ducked into the library, looking around anxiously, but all he saw was Dorian and Helisma, reading and working at her table, so he relaxed. “Dorian…” he hissed. The altus raised his head and winked at the Commander, standing and looking uncomfortable in the entrance to the stairwell. Cullen glared, and pointed up with a questioning look.

“No, the lady in question is meeting with Asta, my friend,” Dorian discerned. “What is the trouble?”

Cullen blushed miserably. “I need a haircut. Badly.” In fact, the hair was a good two inches longer than usual, and was starting to resemble the hair of some of the Dalish elves that were with the Inquisition. Very… mullet-like, but with far more body and curl.

Dorian blinked, and then smiled wickedly. “Oh, my dear Commander.” He looked at the head in question. “Yes, it does seem a bit more… wild than usual, doesn’t it? But how I can help?”

Cullen rolled his eyes. “Tell me who cuts your hair here.”

Dorian laughed, “Commander, don’t you have someone who does the job for you?” And he brightened, “Or you could follow in the footsteps of that de Chevin fellow! You have very similar hair, after all. He‘s an absolute peach!”

“Maker, no!” Cullen looked horrified and miserable. “I can’t have the same haircut as that Orlesian fop!”

Dorian looked him over. “You could just grow it out. You’d look absolutely adorable with a head of curls. Asta would definitely approve.”

Cullen blanched. “I had years of being called ‘Curly’ and ‘Noodlehead’. I absolutely refuse to let anyone have the satisfaction.”

Dorian leaned back in his chair, enjoying having the Commander at his mercy. “Who cut it before?”

Cullen blushed, “Flissa. But she’s currently… serving in other ways. It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to…”

Dorian burst out laughing and Cullen glared again, desperate to quiet him. “Commander, your old hairdresser is…” Dorian sighed. “I will help, but you must swear not to tell a soul. He would never forgive me if I passed this on.”

“Anything!” Cullen’s eyes were wide and solemn. “I can’t take it anymore. I had a dream it was made of snakes last night and they tried to choke me!”

Dorian nearly choked trying to keep his laughter back. “Very well, follow me, Commander.” He stood and reshelved his book slowly, as to not draw attention. “It’s not far.”

Cullen, more assured of his goal, looked a little suspicious. “Where are we going?”

“Just downstairs.” Dorian spun around and gave him a dirty eye. “It’s a good thing you came to me, or you would have ended up in the undercroft. Harritt will cut hair, but he absolutely butchers it. You’d end up like Cole, poor lamb. And who I’m taking you to has a very select clientele and only takes referrals.”

“Anything!” Cullen clutched at his neck. “I just have to do something about this.”

They reached the base of the stairs and Solas sat at his chair, book in his lap. He looked up as Dorian came in. “Dorian, how can I help?”

“An emergency, I’m afraid,” Dorian drawled. “The Commander has… a predicament. I was sure you could help.”

The reserved elf looked Cullen over appraisingly. “Certainly, Commander, but… have you considered growing it out? Asta would greatly approve…”

“Maker’s Breath, no!” Cullen drew a shuddering breath. “Out of the question!”

Solas shrugged. “Very well, then. Have a seat.” He drew out a pair of scissors, towel and a comb and poised them professionally. Cullen eased into the chair timidly. “Do you use any magical products?”

“Well, yes…” Cullen admitted, “Why do you ask?”

“I use a magical element to sharpen my scissors and it can… react to certain coloring elements and straighteners.” The elf set to work, combing him out. “What do you use?”

“A straightener,” Cullen admitted. “It’s absolutely necessary.”

“No worries, I’ll adjust the spell accordingly. Thank you for your honesty.” The elf worked quickly, and inches of hair fell onto the towel around Cullen’s shoulders with efficient speed, much to the Commander’s relief. “Of course, you realize that Asta prefers you… slightly rumpled, shall we say? I could provide you with a liquid that would give that just rolled out of bed look…”

“I don’t care what the Inquisitor thinks about my hair!” Cullen protested too much. “It’s my hair, I’ll do as I please with it.”

Solas shrugged, but let a little smile loose at Dorian as he worked. “Just making small talk, Commander. Almost finished here.” He addressed Dorian, “Do you have a mirror, Dorian?”

“Always,” Dorian provided a small hand mirror with a flourish.

“Commander,” Solas offered the mirror.

Cullen shoulders relaxed in relief. “Its perfect, Solas. My everlasting gratitude. Can I do anything for you? Anything at all?” The trim style was firmly in place, looking exactly as it should. “You’re a miracle worker.”

“Not at all, Commander,” Solas shook out the towel. “Just remember the favor once the Inquisition has accomplished its goals. You never know… In the meantime, I’ll take care of this for you. Just don’t tell anyone. You’d be shocked how many people can’t manage a trim on their own. And I have no wish to be cutting everyone in Skyhold‘s hair. I have things to do.”

Josephine burst through the door looking wild and very, very wet. “Solas!” She breathed frantically. “The dye! It hadn’t set! And that… Sera!” She looked narrowly at the Commander, who bowed, and exited without saying a word.

After all, her secret was safe with him.

 


End file.
